


Stay

by Taeyn



Series: a lot of explosions for two people blending in [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotions, F/M, Rebelcaptain - Freeform, Scars, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Trust, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9498761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taeyn/pseuds/Taeyn
Summary: You’d think, once you wedged a fatal crack in the Empire together, no words would be too hard.





	

You’d think, once you wedged a fatal crack in the Empire together, no words would be too hard. In the week that followed the attack on Scarif, Jyn found herself mostly silent, frequently angry, and above all, lost.

She had quarters on Yavin 4. Injuries that needed time to heal. Rebels who knew her name, grave nods and tight, searching looks across the meeting chamber. These meetings were a labour of their own, filled with evacuation plans and strategies, whispers of the Hoth system. Mon Mothma had suggested she rest, give it time. Tactfully, so that Jyn had the opportunity to refuse and attend anyway.

That helped too.

She sat with Cassian some nights, when one showed up where the other was bound to find. On the nights they didn’t, she knew he stayed up anyhow. Once she caught K-2 lingering conspicuously, the evening she tried to walk in the forest alone.

“Did Cassian ask you to keep an eye on me?” she tried, too exhausted to add much bite.

“That would imply the activity was optional,” the droid said flatly. In spite of herself, Jyn smiled.

“You’re not that hard to shake, you know,” she offered.

“Then can we please skip the part where I manually restrain you, in favour of you inviting me for company?”

“I’m not very good company,” Jyn admitted, more regretful than she intended.

K-2 stared for a second, let his head tip a fraction to the side.

“True,” the droid offered, in what Jyn realised was an attempt at civil. “I see we finally agree.”

Strangely, K-2 was a better companion than she expected. He loomed ahead, didn’t try to make small talk, and pointedly ignored her when a tear escaped through her glare. It rolled over her lip, stung, then faded down the line of her jaw. She refused to acknowledge it.

She’d thought her father dead since she was nine years old.

No need to start mourning him now.

“I’m fine,” Jyn said, when lack of sleep and food forced her to slow their pace. When the trees didn’t stop spinning, she figured they might have to turn back at some point.

“Yes,” replied K-2, quieter. “Cassian looks very much the same when he’s fine too.”

-

At first, Jyn wasn’t consciously avoiding him. Bodhi had been critical, far more so than she, and if he wasn’t in the bacta tank, his bedside was occupied by medical droids. She told herself she didn’t like the noise. The lie sounded weaker every day.

“Bodhi asked about you,” Cassian said one morning, while Jyn double-checked the outposts. Easy, accidental, like he hadn’t given it a second thought.

Jyn snorted, shook her head. They’d been through enough by now.

“Okay,” Cassian answered. He shrugged, dropped the offhand manner like a deadweight. “Bodhi wants to know why you won’t see him.”

“Is he alright?” Jyn said abruptly, her inhale catching in her throat. He’d stabilized, they said he was improving…

“He’s fine,” said Cassian, but the words felt too gentle, too much that she didn’t deserve.

Jyn adjusted the weight of her backpack.

“I guess,” she ventured after a time, sick of it clawing around her head, “I don’t want him to feel like he has to talk to me about my father.”

Cassian let that breathe for a minute. In case she wanted to add more? Take it back?

“Maybe he wants to,” Cassian said finally. He winced, stumbled on a dip in the ground. Jyn barely noticed his bruises, except when she managed to look.

“Did he say that?” she snapped. Wished she hadn’t.

“No,” Cassian replied, and for all she could tell, it was genuine. “But he risked a hell of a lot on your father’s word-” he broke off coughing, and Jyn reached a hand for his supply satchel too. Cassian shot her down with a stare.

“And now he wants to figure out why?” Jyn made a sharp turn at the next marker, travelled briskly in the direction of the base.

“I’m pretty sure,” Cassian muttered, forcing himself upright and matching her stride. “He already has some idea.”

-

Bodhi’s room was dim, his scent of salt and clean wool. His arms and hands were bandaged, cheekbones shadowed and eyes bright.

“I suppose you’ve been guilted into a visit,” he joked self-consciously, his smile falling too quickly when Jyn missed her cue to return it.

“I’m hard to guilt,” she murmured. The truth sounded better out loud. “I wanted to.”

Bodhi nodded, and then, at a loss for how he planned this to go, fidgeted the sleeves of his jacket over his fingers.

“I might start crying,” he warned her, gave a husky laugh. “Seriously. Kay-Tu came in before to recite the technical specifications on hyperdrive ignition… and I cried my eyes out.” He sniffed, laughed again. “See? Even _telling_ you the story about technical specifications on hyperdrive ignition-”

This time, Jyn smiled. She shuffled closer on the blankets, tucked her legs beneath herself.

“Bodhi,” she said earnestly, “bedtime stories from the unabridged edition of the hyperdrive manual... bedtime stories with _Kay-Tu_ …”

She raised a meaningful eyebrow, and Bodhi broke into a grin.

“I’m glad you came,” he said softly. Jyn took his hand, drew his brow to her shoulder when he did cry.

“I wanted to give you something,” Bodhi managed eventually, took a shaky inhale and swallowed. “Galen did, I mean. Galen asked me… Galen said, if ever I were to-” he made an unsteady gesture. _If ever our paths crossed._

“It’s okay,” Jyn said gently, tried not to feel the rain. If she held her breath, she couldn’t taste ash and fuel on her tongue.

“It’s not another hologram,” Bodhi said hurriedly, but Jyn rubbed his arm, reassuring. _I know._

With a brisk nod, the pilot reached into the carrier by his side and drew a out a small bundle. He thrust it into Jyn’s lap, quick like ripping off a bandage, then stared at her much like he was going to be sick.

Her fingers still woven through Bodhi’s, Jyn brushed a thumb over his knuckles. At first, she didn’t know what she was looking at, some dirty and oddly-shaped…

Jyn turned it over on her knees, her free hand flying to her throat.

It was Stormy.

“It’s yours, right?” Bodhi asked tearfully. “Galen said you dropped it on Lah’mu. He took it with him when they packed up…”

“Yeah. He’s mine,” Jyn whispered. Ran a fingertip over the toy’s seam, the frowning, silly helmet and the stitch where Lyra had sewn him back up.

“He hoped he’d never have to give it you again.”

 _He hoped I’d never be caught_ _,_ Jyn knew.

“I meant to give him a wash…” Bodhi apologised, eyes wide and searching. “But then...” He frowned at the burns on his palms, shuddered as if he’d forgotten.

Jyn’s lungs ached, her mouth was bone dry. When she hugged Bodhi again, she couldn’t let go.

“He inspired me so much,” Bodhi mumbled into her jacket. “He made me want to go further... to find a way, no matter what. He’s the only person that ever truly _knew…_ ”

The confession faded, trembling.

“...that you could do more,” finished Jyn, her eyes closing as the rain washed in, “than just believing you can.”

-

She found Cassian in their clearing, not the nearby one either.

“So it’s okay for _you_ to trek through the forest alone,” Jyn offered.

Cassian glanced up, arms folded beneath his head. “Figured I wouldn’t be.”

Jyn caught his smile, let her mouth turn up at the corner. Her boots crunched over the ferns, and she sat beside him, chin resting on her knees.

“I used to make up a lot of stories when I was little,” Jyn muttered after a while. Hesitated. Cassian’s eyes didn’t move in the dark.

“And now that they’ve all come true, I don’t know where else to go.”

Her fingers felt clumsy as she held Stormy, extended him vaguely in Cassian’s direction.

“They’ve all come true?” Cassian asked quietly.

“Mostly the bad ones.” Jyn exhaled, a small, aching sound.

Cassian reached a hand, took the toy and looked him over. White cotton armor, floppy legs and blaster pistol. The rebel’s grip was gentle, like he’d never seen one before. Jyn didn’t want to ask.

“I don’t want you to go,” he said after a time, the whisper somewhat coarse.

Jyn waited, tasted blood as she bit her cheek. She wanted to scream at him, rage for the need that died on her father’s lips. Atone for the cause, Saw Gerrera’s scars billowing to dust. She wanted to kiss him too, the stranger and her fiercest ally, all that she couldn’t see.

“I thought this would feel like home,” was what she said. The fire burnt itself out.

Cassian breathed a laugh, sad.

“But maybe I’m still telling myself stories,” Jyn answered.

Cassian looked at her a long time, eventually set down the toy. When he took her hand, his own was warm and rough.

“Stay,” he said, barely more than a murmur, “tell them to me.”

-

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! c: This series will mostly contain developing relationship ficlets post-Scarif, mostly of the recovery-angst/these-two-badasses-can’t-talk-feelings sort… :’) I hope you enjoy, kudos and comments are always adored and appreciated! ;w; <3


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